Alexandre

The day was gloriously blue and clean.

Accustomed to the weather in Denmark, being in Brazil was always a delicious surprise. Sunny days could be turned into rainy or cloudy in a matter of seconds, because the gods decided to bless that country with a stunning and tropical beauty. I loved being in Brazil. And I loved the fact that my father "the king" could not attend political meetings, and needed to send me in his place. Because visiting new countries, gaining new knowledge and improving my skills in foreign languages was an invaluable achievement.

That ship was leaving back to my house, but it was nothing new that it was full of influential and well-known people from that country. That vessel was private, coming from my own province, and was taking those people to perform the task that my father thought was interesting. But, to be honest, it was a little complicated to pretend that we weren't fooling all those people.

That wasn't an ordinary work trip. Of course, everyone would still receive for the photos they would take, for the events they would attend, and for the presence that we thought was important to draw the attention of the Brazilian media. However, they had no idea they were going to a wedding.

In fact, not even the bride imagined that she was going to a wedding, and, due to the surprise on her face when she saw me get on the ship, I doubted very much that it would be an easy task as I thought. But I couldn't blame her. That idea of marriage would never have crossed my mind if my father wasn't offering me at the princess market as if I were a big dog.

"Doesn't Brazilians ever get tired? "Isabelle, my sister in the pre-teen phase, mumbled. She shook gently, moving her dark hair away from the youthful freckled face. "They are always talking so loud and celebrating about everything.

"It's a matter of culture, Bel," replied Countess Josephine. A tall woman, with golden hair and Caucasian skin, whose husband count was by my side at the time. She had a fan in her hands, although her dress was not so heavy and with petticoat, as was usual to wear in our country of origin, she seemed to be sweating as much as all of us below her thin and long dress. "Not to mention that it must be a novelty for all of them to embark on such a long trip with the royal family.

"They don't recognize us for our titles," I spoke in a low but serious tone. Josephine was silent in a gesture of respect. Without my father or mother there, king and queen, the greatest authority was still mine and the duke's, who at the moment was more interested in listening to the conversations of others in the Brazilian language that he did not even understand. “But that will change when the wedding is held.

"And your bride already knows all the wonderful plans of your highness? "Isabelle debauched, with her reddish cheeks that highlighted each of her freckles while smiling. "Or do you intend to blindfold and gag the woman and take the vows of marriage without her seeing or listening?

I had a low, provocative laugh before hitting a weak peteleco on Izabel's forehead. She hissed as she raised her hand to the place, containing a curse.

"She will know that the wedding is marked when the moment comes," I argued, letting out a low sigh. My eyes paved the way among all the guests to meet the woman; my chosen one, although she didn't even realize that our first intimate night was never in my plans to be the last. "Until then, I count on the support of my court so that they don't ruin everything.

"As desired, the prince "mumbled Isabelle, still rubbing a hand on her forehead.

Everyone uttered the same kind of grumbling, because everyone agreed with my father that a prince could not "dirt" the royal blood with an unexpectedly arranged marriage. Of course, my plans have never been to force a woman to get married, but since my father decided that he would use my title to force me to be with someone for more dominion and power, I made my own decision to find a bride, before he arrested me all my life with that strange and frigid princess he had met in Scotland.

Giovanna Gomes got in my way when we were invited to the same party on the high seas. I did not speak the same language as hers, but she showed great continental dexterity when she knew how to include me in her conversations in at least three different languages; the French language made her voice purring and so sensitive that I was seduced at the same time I listened. I should have fallen in love at that very moment, but everything came to light when we had our first intimate night.

After that day, she disappeared, or thought she would have disappeared, because I was looking for her, and organizing that trip to take her to my territory. There, I had hoped that she would understand my motives and feel some crumb of desire to get to know the monarchy and be part of it, by accepting a commitment. If she didn't accept it, there would be no more parties, travel, and a full and young life for someone like me.

Politics would bind me to a marriage with some princess that my father thought was interesting, and my life would be lost by years of obligations and unhappiness. I didn't want to become a copy of my parents and their failed marriage.

I didn't want to be stuck with anyone, and maybe Giovanna would agree to be by my side, but keeping her life of freedom and independence. No wonder I chose her; she had everything, and she wouldn't sell herself for anything, but we had still built something that one time together. My hope was that she would remember.

While my court chattered in our original language, excluding those Brazilians who surrounded us and tried to get closer, I watched Giovanna Gomes leaning against the side steel bars of the ship. The wind passed by singing around her, blowing her aju-brown hair to the sides.

Her face was perfect, with sardines and delicate features. She wore a lot of makeup, something different from women in my country, but she was still beautiful. It was not plasticized or modeled like most young and rich girls. She had a bulky body, with wide hips and a thin waist, as well as breasts that made volume against the neckline of her short and thin dress.

Giovanna reminded me of the imperial ladies of ancient times; those who wore corsets and knew they would have any man at their feet, precisely because they were out of standards and still within popular tastes. She was perfect.

And I knew every perfect trace of that body under the short and pink dress she wore, although the mere memory of that knowledge made me hold more tightly to the steel bars in front of me, noticing how the wind touched her thick and soft thighs, noticing how I still remembered having touched the same points.

I knew the kinds of sounds she made when lying with a man, and the way her cheeks blushed with the adrenaline when riding on someone's lap. I remembered that very well, because I dreamed of meeting her again every night from the first time.

It was an obsession, but an escape route. I really wanted to get rid of my father's attention, his political plans, but I also wanted to feel the taste of Giovanna's lips on mine, the touch of her small and plump hands around the favorite areas of my body, and that special sweetness that she only delivered when she reached the limit; from which I had drunk, smeared myself, and got addicted. Giovanna was my addiction.

"Tell the captain that I would like a special party tonight," I asked the duke, who had been content not to understand bulhufas of the Brazilian language and was now approaching my free side. I watched his cold eyes and so similar to my father's; the duke also did not agree with that arranged marriage story, even more so with a Brazilian. I didn't care. "And send them to send a special gift to that woman's room.

The duke watched my pointed finger, finding Giovanna still with her gaze lost in the immensity of the sea. She was accompanied by two women, although I knew that her status would guarantee her at least a security double in some corner of the ship. They should be camouflaged, as the Brazilian police used to do. Unfortunately, my guards still sported the fine and elegant costumes of my court, standing out among all the guests in bathing and light suits.

"Be careful, prince," warned the duke, lightly twisting the ends of his thick and slightly gray mustache. He crossed his arms when I stared at him. "Your addiction will be your ruin.

"I will ruin myself in the best possible way," I retorted, giving a slight smile to the man and turning to enter the deck. "An arranged marriage has never brought many problems in royalty. It wouldn't be now that I would bring it.

The duke's look of indignation showed me that he thought otherwise, but I didn't want to know. No one but him dared to question me. Our monarchical government was not as archaic as the few that still existed in the world. Even though I was a prince with obligations, I still had a small free will to decide the course of my story. And as long as Giovanna agreed to that marriage, I knew she would be on the right track.